After the Ice Festival
by MissShaina
Summary: Toki's sulking after his panic attack. A conversation with Skwisgaar brings some things to light. Rated T for language and suggestive themes.


Disclaimer: don't own Metalocaplypse. Brendon Small and Tommy Blacha do.

What a mess. The Guitarganza Ice Festifal had not gone the way Toki'd imagined it would, and he sat on a couch in the Dethcopter, sulking.

"So you wanna tell me what happened back there?"

For a second Toki's blue eyes widened and cast nervously around at Nathan, Pickles, and Murderface before his brain caught up and registered the words; and though the other band members could hear quite clearly, Toki was positive they wouldn't understand Swedish.

"It was nothing, Skwisgaar—just a panic attack," Toki replied in Norwegian.

"Pfft, that wasn't 'nothing,' Toki. You were collapsed on the ground. And since when do you have panic attacks?"

"Sometimes I do. In private though, not on stage."

Skwisgaar narrowed his gaze, looking at Toki like he was an interesting puzzle to figure out.

Toki exhaled sharply. "Look, I've been under a lot of stress lately and I freaked out. If you want to psychoanalyze someone go talk to Pickle or Murderface," (said bandmates, hearing their names, scowled over at the Scandinavians. "Hey, it's rude t'talk about people in a secret language, y'know." "Forget them, Picklesch. They're juscht talking about how jealousch they are of usch, probably.") Toki continued, unfazed. "But leave me alone, because I'm not in the mood for your bullshit."

"I'm not psychoanalyzing, Toki. I'm concerned about you, is all."

"Concerned about me, or me affecting your image?" Skwisgaar glanced at his feet. Toki spat, "Don't worry, after this I'll go back to being stupid little Toki. The loser rhythm guitarist who can't even get through a fucking solo!" He punched the couch cushion and chewed his lip, fighting to keep the tears at bay.

Skwisgaar sat down but didn't say anything.

After a minute, Toki continued. "I just wanted this one thing. I just wanted to be loved and adored like you are, to be recognized for something. But I fucked it up—fucked it up in my home town…sort of. It's humiliating."

"Toki, we all fuck up sometimes. So what if all of Lillehammer saw it? You know you're still their greatest local pride. Like me in Stockholm. Hell, look at Nathan—he nearly destroyed Florida, but they still love him! Don't beat yourself up over it—" Skwisgaar caught himself. Certainly Toki didn't need reminders of being beaten up for his mistakes. Or was that what this was all about, some kind of childhood trauma manifesting itself?

But rather than go catatonic, Toki only nodded absently, sighing, "Yeah, I know, but that's not the worst of it."

Skwisgaar raised an eyebrow.

Toki took a deep breath. "All that stuff, everything I said about you, _to_ you, the book…I feel bad for being such an asshole, I guess. It's just that you're always such an asshole to _me_, you know? And it really hurts. But then you go and save my life on stage. I mean, I wasn't actually dying, but still…and then I have to wonder, _why_?"

Oh. Well, Skwisgaar hadn't expected that. Honestly, he hadn't even thought about it himself; he'd seen Toki fall to the ground in pain, and he'd acted. It would be easy to gloat about it ("Little Toki panicked at the festival and needed me to save him!") It would be easy to dismiss it entirely ("I just don't want to have to find another rhythm guitarist, that's all.") But Skwisgaar Skwigelf never took the easy way—not when it mattered. And Toki mattered, much to the lead guitarist's surprise. And he was sitting there, and looking so miserable, and Skwisgaar couldn't find it in himself to tell the Norwegian anything but the truth. "I guess, Toki…I guess I care about you. I know I'm a dick—I don't mean it to hurt you, I just don't know how to be around you sometimes. That's not an excuse, but it's the best I've got. I dunno, watching you struggle on stage, and then you fell—it was like having the wind knocked out of me. I didn't even know what I was doing, I just couldn't lose you." The blonde man stared hard at his knees, fists clenching.

Toki simply gaped back, and that wasn't helping.

"Please say something. I just threw myself out there—don't leave me hanging."

Toki furrowed his brow and nodded a few times, but still said nothing for a very long minute. Skwisgaar was about to give up, head to his room on the Dethcopter, and drink this memory away, when Toki spoke hesitantly. "So, you're saying you care about me. Like _care_ care. Like people caring about each other."

Skwisgaar nodded once, but didn't dare to look up.

"OK. Alright. Um, like family? Brothers?"

Skwisgaar shook his head. _No_.

"Do you—do you love me, Skwisgaar?"

That got the Swede's attention and he glanced up pitifully. Love? Was that what he felt? He wasn't familiar with the sensation, but then, he wasn't familiar with the way he felt about Toki, either. He needed him. Not even in a sexual way, though part of his brain was keenly aware of the possibilities there—he just needed Toki in his life. The little Norwegian made him happy. Was that love? Skwisgaar supposed it was. "Yeah, Toki. I love you."

A small, goofy grin lifted the corner of Toki's mouth, and Skwisgaar feared for a moment that he was going to laugh at him. But Toki only smiled and said, "I love you too, Skwisgaar."

It was all out in the open. Skwisgaar felt his face growing red. _Love_. And the part of his brain that had been entertaining some wicked thoughts about his fellow Scandinavian let loose with a fury, so that it was all Skwisgaar could do to stand, shoot Toki a _very_ purposeful look, and saunter toward his in-flight bedroom. There were still a few hours before they got back to Mordhaus, and more than a few things he really needed to know about his rhythm guitarist.

Toki watched the man he'd desired for quite a while now, watched him walk away like someone starving might ogle a gourmet dinner. He waited a moment so as not to raise suspicion, then followed, transfixed.

Once he was out of the room, Nathan spoke. "Huh, I wonder what that was all about."

"Dunno,"said Murderface, "but it schounded like they told each other to die."

"Heh, brutal. That's fine, then."

For the rest of the flight home, nobody saw Skwisgaar or Toki.

Except for Skwisgaar and Toki.

_They_ saw a lot.


End file.
